


in my dreams

by mshoney



Series: Jonsadungeonsanddrabbles’ New Year Drabble Event 2021 [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Anastasia (1997 & Broadway) Fusion, F/M, Inspired by Anastasia (1997 & Broadway), Jon as Anastasia, Sansa as Dimtri, jonsanewyear2021, jonsanewyeardrabbles2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28984575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mshoney/pseuds/mshoney
Summary: Sometimes the idea of finding the lost prince was all that kept Sansa going in the wake of so much loss.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Jonsadungeonsanddrabbles’ New Year Drabble Event 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126904
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	in my dreams

**Author's Note:**

> for the @jonsadungeonsanddrabbles New Year event.
> 
> Prompt: Resolutions or DREAMS
> 
> no beta. all mistakes are my own.

“This is pointless” Theon groaned, tossing his pen on the table leaning back in his chair to rub at his eyes.

Margaery swatted him.

“Oh hush, we’ve only been here for a few hours.”

“And we’re not any closer to finding the lost prince.”

“You should have more patience.”

“Yes that infamous Tyrell patience.”

Sansa sighed and tuned out the bickering that seemed to be a constant between her two companions lately. Maybe Theon was right in this whole endeavor was nonsense but when Margaery showed her that newspaper, clamoring about lost princes and reward money, Sansa had felt the hope of a dream being realized.

Former princess of the crown, Daenerys Targaryen, the sole surviving member of the royal family was searching for her lost nephew after rumors circles across the seven kingdoms that he had survived the uprising 10 years ago that annihilated his family.

Finding the lost prince (or the more likely option of the two, someone who can pass for the lost prince) could be their ticket out of this life.

And who better to find the lost Prince, Jaehaerys Targaryen than his own cousin, Sansa Stark.

The Starks and the Targaryen‘s were two families that had never particularly got along during the hundreds upon hundreds of years that they ruled their respective lands.

That is until Lyanna Stark was chosen as Rhaegar Targaryen‘s second wife and bore him a son, the third head of the dragon. The Starks and Targaryens were bound together by familial ties and when the Targaryens were ripped of their iron throne, it was known that Eddard Starkwould call the banners of the largest army in defense of his sister and nephew.

And so it was with surgical strike precision that the entire Stark family was wiped out excepting one daughter, Sansa Stark.

Lady Sansa Stark, returning from a trip at her mother’s ancestral seat in Riverrun was traveling back North on the King’s Road, when words had come of the slaughtering of her family and her life as she knew it was completely destroyed.

The fall of House Stark, the single longest reigning family in the entirety of Westeros, was the spark that fanned the flame that would lead to revolutions across the kingdoms of Westeros. One by one from Lannister to Baratheon, Tyrell to Arryn, royal families fell to the raised fists of the people who would no longer be subjugated by the crowned.

Some royal families, like the Tyrells, were able to step down from power peacefully as per the will of the people, granted that the heir of the house maintained a position of political power on an established council.

While other heirs, such as the Greyjoy siblings lived in exile of the islands they once ruthlessly ruled.

Now Sansa spends her days flitting across the North with Theon and Margaery, trying to find a ways to earn enough money to escape the barren wasteland she once called home, that carries nothing for her but the ghosts of her parents, brothers and sister in each wind blown.

With enough money, Sansa could establish herself in Dorne, where many former Westerosi court members escaped to live a life resembling a shade of the privilege they once had.

The reward for returning the lost prince to his royal aunt was enough. Margaery and her spent cold nights wrapped up in blankets dreaming of the shop they’ll own, in a city where the sun always shines and their bellies would always be full.

It was that dream that Sansa couldn't let go of. Some days she felt it was all that kept her going in the face of so much loss.

She turned to face her two traveling companions who were at the point of their bickering where Margaery was trying to pinch Theon into agreeing with whatever she said.

”Let’s pack up. We can try again tomorrow.”

Theon quickly grabbed his things and practically sprinted to the East wing of the dilapidated keep, where they had all bunkered down. Margaery packed her bag and threw Sansa a sympathetic look.

“We’ll find him, I just know it, Sans” Lacking the enthusiasm she knew Margaery wanted to see, Sansa shrugged and nodded her head in agreement. “I mean, who else could pull it off but you and me?”

“And Theon.”

“Sure, him too.”

”I’ll meet you upstairs in just a bit. I’m gonna make sure all the candles down here are out.”

It was a poor excuse. Margaery knew they couldn’t afford to waste candles in rooms they weren’t occupying but she was kind enough to accept the excuse for Sansa to walk with her ghosts in the castle that was once her home but now was nothing more than a glorified graveyard.

She could close her eyes and see her mother and father leading the lords and ladies of the North into another dance. Her older brother Robb, strong and handsome and proud whether he was flirting with the Manderly girls or taking a turn about the room with Alys Karstark. Her sister, Arya running around underfoot followed by Bran and Rickon, rambunctious and wild and sweet sweet boys that were much to young to—.

Winterfell was their home. A keep without match in the North. In its prime, it was a fortress, a grand stronghold that held for thousands of years. It was said that the Starks of Old could hold off a siege during a 10 year winter. 

Now, it seemed any old bum off the street could crawl their way in.

”Hey you can’t be in here!” Sansa shouted at the silhouette standing in shadows of what used to be the grand ballroom.

The man, for he is definitely a man, jumped at attention at her voice.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean- well I was told I could find, you wouldn’t happen to be Sansa Stark would you?”

”Who is asking?”

“Jon Snow,” The man answered taking a step toward her and into the light. Sansa could feel her heart seize in her chest. This man wasn’t identical to her father but the similarity of his features was enough to stun her. His hair, dark and full of curls like her little sister’s. Eyes just as clear and grey as the eyes of all those brothers she had lost. This Jon Snow had the Stark look more than any of those pretenders whose auditions they had been made to suffer through all day. “I was told Sansa Stark was the woman to speak to if I need exit papers. I’m trying to get to Dorne, I believe I might have family there.” And this Jon Snow just showed up, out of the blue, asking for her, asking to go to Dorne. Sansa gave up fairytales and songs a long ago, but if she was still inclined toward the odd romantic thought, she would have sighed over the destiny of it all. 

“As a matter of fact, we are heading to Dorne” Jon brightened at her words, a smile so sweet, Sansa almost regretted her next words, “but we only have 4 tickets. Once for me, two for Margaery and Theon, and one for the lost prince.”

Jon’s face fell quite spectacularly. “the lost prince?”

”My cousin, Jaehaerys Targaryen. The lost Targaryen prince.” Sansa squinted her eyes exaggeratedly, looked Jon up and down, and walked a circle around him. Before Jon could give a response, Sansa told him, “you share his look, you know?”

”I do?”

”Dark hair, Stark eyes. How old are you?”

”19”

”The exact age he would be”

“Wait, you’re not saying that you think I’m-“

”The crown prince? Of course not. Of course not” Sansa turned to walk away, feigning dismissal before she turned quickly back to Jon again. He must have made to follow her because when she turned, they just nearly missed bumping into each other. He grabbed her arms to hold her steady on her feet. His hands lingered on her arms and Sansa meant to step away but the heat of them on her body, which had been cold for so long, felt so nice. Softly, she continued “But it is quite the coincidence.” Her voice appeared to knock sense back into Jon’s head and he sharply dropped his hands from her side and Sansa missed them almost immediately. “The prince’s remaining family is in Dorne, your family might be in Dorne...you could be the crown prince!”/p>

“I don’t think I am. I’m just a foundling bastard, I’ve lived in an orphanage for as long as I can remember.”

“If you weren't, surely the princess Daenerys could tell her nephew from some northern bastard. Either way you make it to Dorne. What do you have to lose by just meeting the princess?” Sansa put out her hand, “So do we have a deal?”

Jon scrutinized her hand, and for a moment Sansa could feel her chance slipping. But then Jon Snow took her hand and shook it firmly.

”Deal.” He said. Sansa beamed at how right this felt. How much closer she felt to a brighter future. 


End file.
